Alternate Ending to CSPWDT
by Ms Trillbatin
Summary: “You’re taking risks, you’re angry, you’re burning yourself out, man! And it’s obvious why! Because of Dad” “Shut up. Shut up right now…” “Because Dad’s DEAD!” Dean paused for only a millisecond before his fist was flying out of nowhere, to slam into the


_**A/N-** I'm supposed to be doing this major essay for uni (my first actually) but as is always the case Supernatural is bugging me and I can't get this little one shot out of my head, so I guess I'll just have to give in and write it! _

**Alternate Ending for CSPWDT**

_At the Motel_

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for his brother to get out of the shower. Finally he heard the shower switch off, and a few minutes later Dean emerged, jeans on as he towelled down hair and bare torso. Sam stood up, he was tired and still frustrated at his brother, and a good long shower was what he needed. Dean didn't say a word to Sam as they moved passed each other and Sam locked the bathroom door behind him. A few minutes later he found out what a bastard his brother was. Ripping the shower curtain as he moved it out of the path between him and his brother, Sam yanked on his jeans forcefully and stormed into the main area of the motel. Dean was watching what looked like an old cowboy film on the crappy black and white motel TV, but he stood up as Sam slammed the bathroom door behind him. The younger Winchester had had enough, his brother was a complete dick, his attitude towards Sam was really grinding on the younger brother, and now he was going to make Dean talk.

"Whoa, Sammy, don't give yourself a hernia," Dean said glancing at him, but still mainly keeping his eye on the cowboys.

"You used all the hot water." Sam stated, resisting the urge to start shouting straight away. Normally Dean would have found Sam's attitude extremely funny, but he had not been himself since they left the hospital a few weeks ago. So instead he just glanced at Sam and said,

"Yeah?" Sam's rage exploded. It wasn't really about the hot water and they both knew it,

"What the hell is wrong with you Dean?! I mean come on, you don't care about anything any more!" _or anyone…_

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean muttered, falling into the 'ignore Sam's ranting mode',

"No Dean, your being a dick, and _I'm_ taking the brunt of it! I hate you being like this!"

"I'm fine Sam!" He said, and finally he was starting to look annoyed, but Sam didn't care, in fact he was glad, he wanted Dean to feel something… anything. He wanted him to feel the same burning anger that was coursing through Sam's veins right now.

"You just can't handle it, so you know you can take it out on me, with your smart-ass attitude-" But Dean was already talking over him,

"Handle what Sammy?!" He shouted suddenly, Sam paused for only a second,

"You don't get to call me that any more; you lost that right when you started ignoring everything that's going on!" Dean's eyes glazed for a moment in pain, but then anger frosted them over,

"You know what?" he muttered, "It doesn't matter. I don't care." He said sitting back down in his chair, as though to just sit there calmly and watch his cowboy film.

"That's exactly my point, Dean! You don't even care! You don't care about me, you don't care about hunting…not like you used to…you don't even care that Dad's _dead_!" Sam knew he'd hit a nerve when Dan tensed in his chair. Slowly he stood up to face his younger brother. The look on Dean's face should have warned Sam to stop, and it did, but he ignored the internal alarm. He wanted to get Dean angry. At least anger would be something.

"Don't you dare say that…" Dean growled,

"Why?!" Sam shouted cockily, "What are you going to do? Hit me again?" Dean's eyes flickered up to meet Sam's and they both knew the answer, "Well you know what, Dean? _I _don't care, you can pound me as much as you damn-well please. I won't stop talking! I won't stop, ever!"

"I'm warning you Sammy, shut the hell up right now…" Dean had moved closer to his younger brother now. His fists were clenched, but Sam continued,

"You know I watch you hunt, I always have, and I notice things. You're taking risks, you're angry, you're burning yourself out, man! And it's obvious why! Because of Dad-"

"Sam…" A warning tone,

"Because of what happened to him-"

"Sam, I mean it…"

"Because of the Demon-"

"Shut up. Shut up right now…"

"Because Dad's _DEAD_!" Dean paused for only a milli-second before his fist was flying out of no where, to slam into the side of Sam's face. Sam grunted slightly, and fully expected to just stand there and take it, like a man, like a Winchester, like Dean's brother. But his anger got the better of him. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled his fist back and thrown a massive right hook at his brother's face, which was scrunched up in anger. Dean staggered slightly, but all credit due, he did not show the shock he was undoubtedly feeling, register on his face. Sam suddenly realised what he had done. His fists, which he had unconsciously raised into a fighting stance dropped to his side, he opened his mouth to apologise, but another punch caught him unawares and he was knocked to the floor. A second later, Dean was on top of him, hitting him, and in no way pulling his punches. Sam resisted every temptation to fight back, but instead lay there and let Dean beat him, let Dean use him as a human punching bag.

_One hit,_

"Shut up!"

_Two hits,_

"Don't ever say that again!"

_Three hits,_

"Never!"

_Four hits,_

"Don't talk about him like that!"

_Five hits,_

"Do you understand me!?" It appeared that while Dean was waiting for a beaten Sam to answer, he took in the state of his little brother. Sam's face was pounding in agony, he could feel his eye already closing of it's own free will, and he could feel blood dribbling pathetically from his nose. He was breathing heavily too, through pain but mostly shock. It had taken Dean a lot longer to realise he was beating on his little brother, than Sam had hoped. Suddenly, shakily, Dean got off his brother and stood up. He glanced at Sam's face, then turned away quickly. The room was silent except for the panting of both Winchester men. Sam found suddenly that he didn't want to look at his brother, wouldn't…no, _couldn't_ be in the same room as him. Sam jumped up quickly and moved to the front door. Apparently Dean's older brother protective mode was quite intermittent, because it kicked in now. How ironic.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked quickly, almost panicky. Perhaps he thought Sam was leaving for good. The younger would never abandon the older, especially not now, but he had good reason to, and they both knew it. Sam paused, half turned, with is hand on the door knob, but not enough to actually see his brother,

"I'm…going for a walk. I'll be back later."

"Sammy, please…I'm sorry…" the pleading was almost worse than the beating. That broken sound, the one that represented all their pain and agony, was unbearable, especially coming from Dean.

"I need to cool off. So do you. I'll be back." He stressed again, then walked out of the motel door, shutting it behind him, slightly louder than he'd intended.

* * *

Sam had been walking for a good few hours now. His cell phone had not rung once. He was not sure if he wanted it to or not. He was nearly back at the motel now, he had walked full circle round the crummy town they were staying in on the way back from dealing with Angela and Neil. He walked across the motel parking lot, glancing only briefly at the oh-so-shiny Impala, resisting the urge to hurl a rock through it's windows. He took a deep breath as he came up to the motel door and then opened it. He walked in, to find Dean sitting in front of the TV again, this time it looked like an episode of some teenage soap he was watching. Sam didn't recognise it at all. Dean got up quickly as Sam moved into the room and shut the door behind him. The older Winchester moved into the kitchen,

"You want a beer?" he asked. His tone held so much meaning, conciliatory, regretful, loving and all with a deep sadness that Sam was glad Dean had finally recognised. Sam nodded and moved forward as Dean popped the top and handed him the long necked bottle. They both took a few swigs in silence.

"Sammy…"

"I didn't mean that…I know to you I'll always be Sammy. That's fine, I can make my peace with that." He interrupted suddenly, "it's just…" Sam put the bottle on the counter, "I don't know if I can take it, man! I mean jees, it's hard enough to lose…" Dean ducked his head and so Sam took pity on him, "It's hard enough after what happened at the hospital, without having to lose you too, dude…" Dean looked up at his brother, raw emotion in his green eyes,

"Sammy, man, come on. You're not going to lose me…I'm fi-" Sam watched as Dean stopped himself, and prayed that finally he had realised he was not _fine_, and that he shouldn't be _fine_, and that it showed he was still human that he was not fucking _fine!_ Dean scrubbed at his eyes, "I'm sorry I hit you. Every time. I'm an idiot, I know it. We both know it." Sam smiled slightly,

"Yeah that is true." Dean smacked his brother lightly on the arm and smiled too,

"But listen, man." Dean's tone turned serious. Your right, Sam. I'm not fine. I'm not dealing with…" his breath hitched and Sam felt the familiar burning sensation in the back of his throat, "I don't know where I am, man…I'm spinning out of control…" he whispered and Sam instinctively put a hand at the nape of his brother's neck, gripping him tightly. Dean's eyes scrunched up and finally, after such a wait of holding it all in, the tears seeped out.

"I know, Dean, I know…" Sam whispered,

"I can't take it, Sammy, I can't…" he sobbed. Slowly his knees buckled and before they knew it, they had both sunk to the kitchen floor. Sam pulled his brother as close as was humanly possible, arms and legs intertwined as Dean sobbed brokenly. Sam leant his forehead against the side of Dean's head, as his brother cried and shook,

"I don't want…this pain, I can't deal, Sammy…I want rid…how…how do you do it?" he asked between sobs, the tears streaming from his eyes, dripping from his chin as he twisted his head so that their foreheads were resting against each other,

"I have you man," Sam sobbed, "You help me…you get me through it…" Dean shut his eyes slowly,

"I just want him back, Sammy, I want Dad back…I want him with me right now, I'm never going to see him again…never….I want Dad back, Sammy, I want Dad back…" he cried,

"Me too, Dean…me too…"

_**A/N**- I cried so much while I wrote this! I don't really like the ending, but I didn't want a 'and then they knew that they'd all live happily ever after' ending because I didn't want to ruin the tone of the writing, if you get what I mean. I wanted this to be sad. Anyway please review, this is my first bit about Sam and Dean dealing with the stuff in season 2, so I'm not too sure how I did with it. _


End file.
